


Through Their Eyes

by BecauseBraime



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brienne of Tarth Deserves Better, Canon through the first half of 8x04 and then season 8 ended, Did I mention fluff?, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Jaime singing, Jaime stays at Winterfell, Snarky Bran, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24299791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseBraime/pseuds/BecauseBraime
Summary: Season 8 ended halfway through episode 4 - huh... strange. This is just a bunch of random shit that happened in the life of Brienne of Tarth and Jaime Lannister after TBTWP, mostly through the eyes of those around them.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 65
Kudos: 204





	1. Just the Way You Are (Sansa)

**Author's Note:**

> The song in this chapter is Bruno Mars "Just the Way You Are". All rights are his! I'm just borrowing as I always thought it would be the perfect song for Jaime to sing to his knight

Sansa couldn’t believe she allowed the Kingslayer to stay at Winterfell after the Long Night. It had been one thing to let him put his life on the line in service to the North and humanity, but it was an altogether different thing to let him stay during a time of peace.

By _peace_ , Sansa meant freedom from an onslaught of dead things trying to claw your face off. There was no peace in Westeros with Cersei still on the throne. Everyone knew that. Even the Kingslayer.

Sansa had a feeling that Jaime Lannister cared for less for the threat Cersei posed to Westeros as he did the threat Cersei posed to a certain lady knight. A mere day after Sansa allowed the Kingslayer to stay as a guest of Winterfell, he and Tyrion returned from a night of drinking with a sellsword in tow.

 _Bronn_. Sansa immediately disliked the man. He was uncouth and vulgar. More so, he was friends with the Lannister brothers which made Sansa wonder at the quality of the man. According to Bronn, he had been sent north by Cersei with a hit list. Take out the Lannister brothers, but only after taking out ‘the cow’. 

Bronn dramatically recounted how Cersei had raged for days after Brienne made her case to Jaime for the south to join the north’s cause. She then raged to new levels of psychosis after Jaime rode north at Brienne’s behest; ignoring Cersei’s orders to stand down.

“Oh yeah. She’s properly pissed! Said she would pay double if I made ‘im watch her die before I stuck an arrow in his own golden head.” Bronn smiled smugly as he looked to Jaime before turning back to Sansa and Daenerys.

Daenerys’ brows furrowed slightly. “Why the vendetta against Lady Brienne? We all sought aid from Cersei. Lady Brienne didn’t speak a word to her in the Dragon Pit.”

“ _Ser_ Brienne.” Jaime’s voice corrected the queen for the sixth time that day. _Gods. This fool cares little for his head continuing to take residence atop his shoulders_.

With an unimpressed scowl directed at Jaime, Daenerys took a deep breath and turned her attention to Tyrion. A knowing smile tugged at Tyrion’s lips. Glancing back at his brother, Tyrion raised a brow and looked back to his queen.

“With all due respect, your Grace, my brother has little desire to bed me… or you… or Jon… or anyone else who sought aid. Only a certain lady kn…”

Jaime kicked Tyrion’s knee and glared at his brother. Bronn snorted before proudly announcing his forethought on the matter. “I knew they were fuckin’! I called it years ago at Riverrun.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. With a sideways glance to her sworn sword, Sansa bit back a laugh at the sight of Brienne’s flushed face and wide eyes. When their eyes met, Sansa’s lips pulled into a knowing smile which only made Brienne’s face redden deeper.

With the shake of her head, Daenerys looked to Sansa and Jon before appraising Bronn. “Well, I thank you for not murdering my Hand or _Ser_ Brienne.”

“Or me. Don’t forget your favorite person.” Jaime smiled cheekily at the queen before his eyes flitted to Brienne. With a tsk and shake of her head, Brienne looked away from Jaime and back to the wall opposite her.

Daenerys smiled sarcastically at Bronn. “…Or someone of import to my Hand and _Ser_ Brienne. What is it you would ask of me?”

“Oh, not much. Maybe a castle or two.” Bronn’s smile widened as he spoke the words. He turned to the Lannister brothers who looked anything but supportive.

Daenerys raised a brow; a small smile tugging at her lips. “I admire your boldness. Lets put that to the test. If you help us take the throne, you will have your castle.”

“Ah fuck me. I gotta go back south!? I was hopin’ to stay with these twats and watch the taller one fail at courtin’ his lady.” Bronn huffed in annoyance and put his hands on his hips.

Jaime scoffed and spoke more to the room than Bronn. “Fail!? I think I’ve been managing just fine, thank you.”

From beside Sansa, Bran guffawed, catching everyone by surprise. Sansa marveled at the change in her brother. Since the Night King’s fall, Bran was more human than he had been. He still had his unnerving visions and ability to look into the past, but he was beginning to smile again and respond to his given name.

Bran looked to Jaime with a wide smile on his face. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I must have been distracted by the stifling temperature of the room. _It’s bloody hot in here_.”

At Bran’s words, Jaime’s eyes went wide and his ears reddened. As unlikely as Bran’s guffaw was, the laughter that pushed past Brienne’s lips was even more surprising.

Barely able to control herself, Brienne covered her mouth and looked to the floor. Mirth flooded her eyes as she tried to collect herself. “Apologies, my lady. Your Grace. Mayhap I should take Lord Bran to his tree now. I think we could both use some air.”

Sansa’s eyes flitted between Brienne and Jaime; the latter of whom had his face turn impossibly redder. Sansa mused that his complexion now rivaled his house’s banner. _Oh. I need to hear about this later. This might have been worth letting him stay._

Bran smiled at Brienne from his position near Sansa. “That would be lovely, Ser Brienne. Thank you.”

When the meeting later concluded, Sansa sought out Brienne. She intended to speak with her sworn sword about the rotation of guards on the night shift. While Winterfell did not yet have a Master-at-Arm, Sansa had informally given Brienne the title and responsibility. The men knew she was in charge and didn’t dare question her.

Sansa trusted Brienne implicitly. Unlike most who oft had ulterior motives, Brienne wanted little more than to serve and serve well. At times, it was borderline worrying to Sansa just how little Brienne thought of her own wants and needs.

When Jaime sough Sansa out to ask if he could stay on, Sansa’s first instinct had been to turn him away. She struggled to trust the man despite Brienne’s vouching for him. Sansa ultimately decided to let him stay on, but only for Brienne. She of course had noticed the unspoken love between the pair well before they admitted it to one another.

It didn’t take someone with Bran’s talents to see the longing looks the two knights exchanged. At first, Sansa marveled at it. _Could Cersei’s precious twin truly have eyes for another?_ Sansa always had a feeling that there was more to the Brienne’s and Jaime’s story than met the eye.

Brienne did not speak much of personal affairs, but from what little information Sansa could extract from Brienne or Pod, it was evident that something deeper existed between the two knights. She was hardly surprised when Brienne, the shyest woman she had ever met, stood before Jaime in a hall packed with people and a dragon queen, to speak on behalf of her ‘friend’.

Then of course there was Jaime. Before the battle, he followed Brienne around Winterfell, pining away like a boy of three and ten with his first crush. Sansa noticed their proximity before and after the battle.

The way the tended to one another’s injuries in the hours following the battle. The way their eyes lingered and smiled during the feast. The way Jaime’s eyes flashed with jealousy at Tormund’s presence. The way they exchanged private smiles and touches the day after the feast.

Oh yes… and she heard them the night of the feast. Sansa feared they might wake the Night King from whatever slumber Arya had put him in.

Rounding a corner, Sansa found Brienne speaking to one of the guards. Sansa stood back slightly in the shadows as she observed something worrisome. At Brienne’s back, two guards snickered and japed about her. Sansa heard the japes at Brienne’s expense over the years. Unfortunately, so did Brienne.

A handful of the men mocked Brienne’s appearance over her time in the North. Rage simmered in Sansa’s gut. _She fought alongside these men. Saved most of them. Yet they still mock her appearance._ _They would neve mock a man they deemed ugly; particularly one as skilled as Brienne. Because she is a woman and not conforming, they treat her as a great jape._

Judging from Brienne’s reddening ears and cheeks, Sansa knew she heard the japes today. In truth, she always did. She never said anything though. Never made a fuss. Brienne accepted cruelty like most ladies at court accepted compliments. It tore at Sansa’s heart that someone so courageous and confident in battle could lack such self-esteem.

Sansa had tried to talk to Brienne about the comments over the years. Sansa insisted she would step in to put an end to it, but Brienne implored her not to. “Please my lady, don’t say anything. It has only ever made it worse and to be honest, the comments are hardly unwarranted. I know what I look like. I don’t mind it. It is as though they tell me the sky is blue and the snow white. Worse are wind.”

Except that they are not. Sansa could see it in Brienne’s eyes. Even now with Jaime following her about Winterfell as though she was the sun and he a man having been in the black cells for years, Brienne still didn’t see her beauty. She still didn’t believe herself desirable.

Sansa could no longer stand idle as her friend and confidant suffered. Sansa had promised that _she_ wouldn’t say anything. She had not promised that no one else would. Marching back into the castle, Sansa made her way towards the room that she last saw Jaime in.

As expected, he was in the great hall with Tyrion and Bronn. Sansa approached the men and watched as they turned at the sound of her footsteps. Bronn and Jaime offered polite smiles while Tyrion stood eagerly. “Ah, my former lady wife. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing, actually. I do however need to borrow my former goodbrother.” Jaime perked up at that and smiled teasingly at Tyrion.

Looking back to Sansa, Jaime stood from his chair. “Here I am! Your favorite former goodbrother.”

“My only former goodbrother.”

“Fine. Your favorite former goodsibling.” A knowing smile tugged at his lips. _Idiot._

“Do not make me say that I prefer Cersei, please.” At her words, Jaime feigned mock offense.

“Well, what can I do for you that my brother can’t? I’m certain the list is long, so mayhap we should stick to the most pressing items.”

With an eyeroll Brienne would be proud of, Sansa grabbed Jaime’s arm and tugged him forward. “Walk with me.”

Making their way through the castle, Sansa guided Jaime towards the area she had just seen Brienne. “It’s about Brienne.”

At her words, Jaime’s mirth died. “What is it? Is she alright?”

Sansa snorted and glanced sideways at him. “I assure you, there are no physical threats to her here. She can drop any of the men in the yard should the situation call for it.”

Jaime’s chest swelled with pride at the words. “I would expect no less from the first lady knight of the Seven Kingdoms.”

With a sigh, Sansa guided them towards the battlements. “It isn’t the physical threats to her person that I worry about.”

This time, Jaime’s head turned towards her. His eyes narrowed as he considered her. Coming to a halt atop the section of the battlements overlooking the courtyard, Sansa spotted the two dolts who japed at Brienne’s expense daily.

“Have you ever wondered at how someone so bold in protecting others could be so meek protecting herself? Since Brienne has been in my service, I have heard her take jape after jape and do little more than look to the ground in shame.”

A shadow passed over Jaime’s face. Of course he knew of Brienne’s low self-esteem. Taking a breath, Sansa continued. “Brienne has begged me not to discipline the men who mock her. She feels it would only make things worse and that it isn’t worth it. She feels her emotional comfort less important than discipling foulmouthed soldiers.”

Where once Jaime’s chest swelled with pride, it now swelled with rage. “Who?”

With a sharp smile. “See those dolts standing by the stables and eating their apples like derelict ponies? Those are two of them that torment her.”

Something dangerous flickered in Jaime’s eyes; like wildfire spreading across the whole of Westeros. “Thank you, Lady Sansa. I think I’ll handle it from here.”

Later that night at dinner, Sansa sat at the head table with Daenerys, Jon, Bran, Arya, Varys, and Tyrion. Brienne entered the hall alone and took her usual seat near the head table. It was a seat everyone knew to be hers, as it afforded her direct line of sight and easy access to the Starks should the need arise.

Almost every night, Pod sat with Brienne, but tonight it appeared that Brienne was alone. Sansa considered calling her over, but before she could, the doors to the hall opened.

From the back, left-hand side of the room, the two soldiers who constantly mocked Brienne entered. Their faces were badly beaten, and they limped slightly, but nothing too serious nor anything that would warrant a trip to the maester. Moments later and from the same door, Jaime, Pod, and Bronn strolled in.

They hardly looked touched as their faces donned pleased smiles. They looked as though they came fresh from the baths rather than the yard. Were it not for the rosy coloring on their cheeks as gifted by the winter chill, Sansa would hardly have known they were outside moments earlier.

The three took their seats with Brienne. Bronn and Pod sat on one side of the table while Jaime sat next to Brienne on the other side. Jaime’s arm looped around Brienne’s back as he placed a tender kiss to her shoulder.

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly as she took in the gleeful smiles of the men with her. As Pod and Bronn turned to survey their handywork, Brienne followed their line of sight and gasped. Speaking in urgent, hushed tones to the men, they feigned innocence. Sansa had to bite back a laugh as warmth spread through her heart.

Looking back to her meal, Sansa ate contentedly while stealing occasional glances at the table of four. The men told rowdy stories that earned a mix of eyerolls and chuckles from Brienne. Sansa watched as Jaime’s eyes sparkled every time he looked to Brienne.

Brienne was on the night shift that evening and Sansa thought it a good evening to set aside her paperwork and walk with her friend. Jaime had only been at Winterfell for near a moon’s turn, but Sansa had never seen her smile more. Between the day’s events and Brienne’s improved happiness, Sansa realized that perhaps she made the right decision in letting Jaime Lannister stay as a guest of Winterfell.

As Brienne stood to leave for her shift, the men stood and bid her goodnight. Jaime leaned in and whispered something to Brienne before she took off towards the battlements. Some time later as dinner ended and castle residents retired to their chambers, Sansa observed an odd look exchanged between Tyrion and Jaime.

The three men and Tyrion soon disappeared outside. _Odd_. Moving back from her seat, Sansa made her way towards the battlements to find Brienne.

Her sworn sword was a southerner through and through. Brienne despised the cold and often did laps around the battlements to keep warm.

Sansa mused that Brienne likely walked the length of Westeros and back on her shifts atop the battlements. Try as she might to make Brienne thicker cloaks, Sansa found that her lady knight never seemed warm enough. 

When Sansa eventually found Brienne, she was shifting from foot to foot at the center of the battlements. The tips of her ears and her cheeks were rosy from the cold and she smacked her hands together to keep them warm.

Sansa chuckled on approach. “Warm night. Seems the seasons are shifting.”

Brienne looked to Sansa as though she proclaimed the Night King returned. “I would hate to experience what you consider cold.” The two women shared small smiles.

They soon began to walk the battlements together. They spoke mostly of trivial matters. Sansa needled Brienne about Jaime’s pathetic pining, but she didn’t want her friend to feel discouraged from accepting Jaime’s public affections.

In the distance, Sansa and Brienne heard something just outside the castle walls. Moving towards the sound, they both spotted its source. Looking down, they saw Jaime, Pod, Bronn, and Tyrion. Jaime stood just in front of the other men as they all looked up at Brienne.

 _Are they humming?_ Sansa’s eyes widened in realization what they were doing.

It became quickly evident that the four were humming a beat. Then Pod’s voice carried over the humming. His tone became slightly louder; a different beat and pitch, but still it fit with the other three. Then Jaime fucking Lannister started singing.

_Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they're not shinin'  
Her hair, her hair, falls perfectly without her trying  
She's so beautiful and I tell her everyday  
I know, I know when I compliment her she won't believe me  
And it's so, it's so, sad to think that she don't see what I see  
But every time she asks me "Do I look okay?"  
I say_

Tyrion and Bronn kept humming, but all four men began stomping their feet and clapping to the beat. Pod’s voice then lifted to join Jaime’s.

_When I see your face  
There's not a thing that I would change 'cause you're amazing  
Just the way you are  
And when you smile  
The whole world stops and stares for a while  
Brienne you're amazing  
Just the way you are_

Keeping the beat going, Jaime’s voice continued as Pod went back to his background notes.

_Her lips, her lips, I could kiss them all day if she'd let me  
Her laugh, her laugh, she hates but I think it's so sexy  
She's so beautiful, and I tell her everyday_

_Oh you know, you know, you know I'd never ask you to change  
If perfect's what you're searching for then just stay the same  
So don't even bother asking if you look okay, you know I'll say_

Then all four men began singing together while continuing to clap and stomp their feet.

_When I see your face  
There's not a thing that I would change  
'Cause you're amazing  
Just the way you are  
And when you smile  
The whole world stops and stares for a while  
Brienne, you're amazing  
Just the way you are_

As they finished, Sansa and Brienne stood slack jawed at them. Sansa began clapping and cheering loudly as the four men took dramatic, mock bows.

Glancing at Brienne, Sansa saw her blush, but she was smiling widely. _Gods. I don’t want to be near their bedroom tonight. I’ve only just emotionally recovered from the feast._

With a wide smile still plastered to her face, Brienne shouted down to Jaime. “You’re an idiot.”

Jaime smiled impossibly wide back at her. “Yes, but I’m your idiot.” Brienne chuckled at his words and shook her head. Like Brienne, Jaime’s smile stayed etched on his face. “Are you going to marry me yet?”

Sansa snorted. This had been Jaime’s newest thing. He would ask Brienne for her hand without _actually_ asking for her hand. Sansa didn’t know what was so funny about it, but Brienne thought it hysterical. “Maybe another song first.”

Bronn bellowed up to her. “I’m sure you’ll both hit the high notes later tonight.” Jaime shoved the lascivious sellsword as Pod’s brows shot up in horror and Tyrion guffawed. “Alright, alright. We’ll come inside.”

With a final bow, the men began to walk in, humming the tune loudly the entire way. Jaime shouted out loudly. “Are you watching now Bran!? Now that was bloody hot.”

Sans rolled her eyes and looked to Brienne. _I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so youthful and happy. Alright, so I definitely made the right decision in letting Jaime Lannister stay as a guest of Winterfell. I’m fine. This is fine._


	2. Dinner with Wolves (Tyrion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion learns more about Jaime's and Brienne's trip through the Riverlands.

At the behest of her advisors, Daenerys decided to delay her march south to allow time for her armies to recover from the fight with the dead. Well, that and because she was not an incompetent ruler. They needed a plan. They needed to prepare. The needed to heal.

As frustrating as the delay was for the dragon queen, she had already waited years for the crown. What was an extra moon or two before moving south for the final battle?

Tyrion breathed easier knowing he had more time to prepare and strategize. His end objective was to ensure the fewest number of casualties to their forces and the innocents in the city.

The extended stay at Winterfell also meant Tyrion had more time with his brother. It was wonderful to reconnect with Jaime after so many years apart. An unexpected element of their reunion was the change in Jaime. The Jaime who now stood beside Tyrion, was the Jaime who Tyrion idolized as a child.

Younger Jaime was nowhere near as bitter and jaded as Cersei’s creature that resided in King’s Landing for decades. Younger Jaime was the developing knight who protected Tyrion from Tywin, acted as a buffer with Cersei, and treated Tyrion as an equal.

There were only two things about this most recent version of Jaime that were different than younger Jaime. This new Jaime was free of Cersei. This new Jaime was happy.

For all the wonderful things that Jaime had done for Tyrion during childhood, one thing that always bothered Tyrion was his brother’s seeming unhappiness.

Tywin had always expected a lot of Jaime. He was the future of their house and Tyrion knew the pressure overwhelmed Jaime. His big brother just wanted to be a knight. He didn’t want to lead a great house or amass power. That was always Cersei’s ambition. Jaime just wanted to fight for a worthy cause and protect those he loved.

Seeing Jaime at Winterfell was not a surprise knowing Jaime as he did. The only thing surprising about Jaime’s sudden presence was the apparent break from Cersei. _Finally_.

Still, Tyrion had assumed his brother would return south after the Long Night should they survive. What Tyrion had not expected, was Brienne, or rather, what Brienne meant to Jaime. 

_How did I not see it in the Dragon Pit? How did I not see it in King’s Landing years prior?_ Tyrion tried to think back on the few occasions he saw the pair together. Jaime rarely spoke of the ordeal in the Riverlands when he returned to King’s Landing with one less hand. 

From everything the Starks said of Brienne, Tyrion was not surprised that his brother had fallen for her. She was honorable, loyal, brave, fierce, and kind. She was also blonde. Quite blonde.

Tyrion was utterly delighted to see his brother pining for Brienne. It was hysterical to watch really. _Gods, he never looked at Cersei that way. He never blushed or stumbled like such a fool before._

More important to Tyrion was how happy Jaime seemed. His big brother truly smiled when he looked at Brienne. Not the predatory, cutting smile that he offered most people, but a genuine smile. _I do hope that I’ll have a goodsister when this is said and done._

Sansa had extended an invitation to Jaime and Tyrion to join her family for a private supper that evening. By family that of course included the Starks siblings and Brienne. Jon couldn’t attend as he was busy trying _not_ to bed his aunt. The Targaryen pair were not having much luck on that front.

As Tyrion and Jaime walked towards Lady Sansa’s solar, Tyrion implored Jaime to be polite. Not to pick any fights or say anything that would require Tyrion to give away the Rock as a peace offering.

Jaime scoffed at his side and feigned offense. “I’m never anything but polite. Just ask Brienne.” _Gods. This is going to be a catastrophe._

Upon arriving, Tyrion observed that the Starks and Brienne were already seated and having an animated discussion. _Alright, well… Sansa and Arya are having an animated discussion. Bran looks half awake and Brienne is being… Brienne._

There were two open seats between Sansa and Brienne which Tyrion was thankful for. He didn’t want to sit near the little wolf during dinner as he found the girl unnerving.

Sansa startled at the sight of Tyrion. “Oh Gods. What happened to your head and beard!?”

Jaime chuckled as he moved quickly to the seat beside Brienne. With an unamused glance towards his brother, Tyrion looked to Sansa with a forced smile. “Well my brother here wanted a haircut and shave. He said that he felt too ‘northern’ in his prior state. Naturally, I thought that I could trust him to return the favor.”

Arya guffawed. “You trusted a one-handed man who thinks himself amusing to cut your hair and shave your face?”

Tyrion could feel Jaime’s eyes on him. With mirth in his voice, Jaime spoke on Tyrion’s behalf. “I think this is an improvement. I found some little birds living in the beard and I think the lice in his hair were welcoming their first grandbabes.”

“I did not have lice in my hair!” Tyrion huffed at Jaime and ran a hand through his hair. Yes, Tyrion knew that he looked absurd. His trimmed locks were uneven and one side of his head had more hair removed than the other. His face was a map of nicks from the razor’s edge, but at least that much was balanced.

Jaime shrugged. “I tried my best to give you _a hand_.”

 _Gods, no. Not the hand japes again_. Both Brienne and Tyrion groaned at the same time. _Good. Someone else can relate to my emotional tribulations with this dolt._

“You should have asked Ser Brienne to trim your beard and hair. She is much _gentler_ and has a steadier hand.” Bran’s words surprised the group gathered around the small table.

Jaime snorted and looked between Bran and Brienne. “My lady, have you been playing the part of barber to the Three Headed Raven here?”

Before Brienne could reply, a knowing smile spread across Bran’s face. “Three _Eyed_ Raven and no, she has not. More an observation on my part at how nicely she tended to your hair and beard at Harrenhal. You remember, don’t you… after your shared bath.”

All sound in the room died as everyone looked wide-eyed at Bran. Tyrion snorted and looked around the table. “I’m sorry, their shared _what_?”

Judging by the looks on Jaime’s and Brienne’s faces, this was going to be good.

Brienne became very defensive about the noted experience. “I was in the tub first! I told him to get in another tub, but he was trying to instigate.”

“You were tasked with returning me to King’s Landing in one piece. I don’t think that went so well.”

“Lady Catelyn told me to return you in exchange for her daughters. She did not specific in what state.”

“Well I imagine _alive_ was the idea, Brienne. If I went into another tub, I would have drowned. I was in no condition to be in a bath alone.”

Bran’s even voice cut through their bickering. “Yes, you fainted. Brienne had to catch you.”

“Well I can hardly be blamed. I was quite fevered. I imagine that is an expected side effect of losing your hand.”

Bran’s lips tugged into a wide smile. “Were you fevered or lightheaded? I thought it lightheaded.”

Jaime huffed and looked to Bran as though he was debating whether it mattered that someone died by dagger or sword. “Does it matter?”

“I’m more wondering if it all could have been avoided if you did heed Brienne’s advice and got in a different tub. I imagine if your blood wasn’t so busy rushing from one head to another, you wouldn’t have felt so faint.”

At Bran’s words, Jaime choked on his wine and his face reddened. “What!? You see underwater now too in these visions. Is there no privacy with you?”

Brienne gawked at Jaime. “What!?”

Bran shrugged his shoulders. “I saw nothing nor did I want to look. I assumed. You looked most uncomfortable at one _point_.”

Tyrion couldn’t control the guffaw pushing past his lips as his laughter joined Arya’s. Sansa however looked scandalized.

Tyrion wiped away the tears spilling from his eyes. “Honestly brother. Halfdead from fever and loss of hand, yet couldn’t let poor Brienne be? I suppose you’ve always been rather _cock_ sure.”

Brienne grumbled at Jaime’s side. “What is wrong with you? Honestly, Jaime.”

“In fairness to me, you were very angry and very naked.”

Tyrion couldn’t stop laughing. “Mayhap Ser Brienne should have just shown up to the Dragon Pit naked. She was already quite angry with you, so it wouldn’t take much convincing to get you to march the army north on the spot.”

Looking to Tyrion with wide eyes, Jaime spoke through gritted teeth. “Do shut up.”

“Apologies, I can _hard_ ly contain myself.”

Sansa could no longer handle the direction of the diner conversation and tried to change topics. “Alright well now that Jaime’s fondness for Brienne has been settled, if we can discuss something other than his cock, I would appreciate it.”

Arya snickered and looked between Jaime and Brienne. “Yes, lets get off the topic or rather, everyone except Brienne get off the topic. I’m certain Ser Jaime would much appreciate her staying on it.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed as he threw up his arms in exacerbation. “I’m sorry, but aren’t you ten years old? Has anyone even had ‘the talk’ with you?”

Sansa sent a warning look at Arya who raised a challenging brow. “Do not! I do not want to hear about Gendry or any of it. Please. Lets just have a nice dinner and discuss something more appropriate.”

The rest of dinner was uneventful, and Tyrion found himself clamoring for rowdier company as the group departed. Brienne had agreed to spar with Arya that evening, so Jaime was available to pester which thrilled Tyrion. They soon found Bronn and Pod huddled in the great hall and enjoying some wine before the fire.

Bronn snorted at their approach and looked to Pod. “Here come the fancy folk from their fancy dinner.”

Tyrion took a seat after helping himself to some wine. “Yes, very fancy. We talked about my brother’s awkward erections around his lady knight.”

“Oh, Gods! Enough of it.”

Shaking his head, Pod grimaced slightly. “Yes, I really don’t want to hear about or think about it.”

Bronn smacked Pod’s shoulder and guffawed. “What? Don’t wanna think about ya lady knight takin’ it from this one? I told ya at Riverrun that these two were fuckin’. Don’t know why nobody appreciates the fact that I called this years ago.”

“I was not… doing that… at Riverrun.” Tyrion watched as Jaime rubbed his eyes in irritation.

“No, but ya wanted to. Gods I had to deal with ya mopin’ about for moons after that. Ya were all backed up. I should ‘ave been pissed when ya left King’s Landin’ to come here and ya never even told me. Left me sittin’ there with ya crazy cunt of a sister. I knew what ya were doin’. Wanted to die in the arms of the woman ya love, huh?”

Bronn’s voice was teasing, but something in Jaime’s reaction told Tyrion it wasn’t a jape. _Gods. Did he really come here expecting to die? Did he really just want to be near Brienne in the end? He didn’t even share his feelings with her until after the battle. Was he simply going to take his secret love for her into his death?_

As Bronn and Pod renewed whatever conversation they were having before Jaime and Tyrion arrived, Tyrion took the opportunity to lean over and speak to Jaime. “You’re a real idiot, you know that? You should have told Brienne long ago.”

“It wasn’t that simple Tyrion.” With a shake of his head, Jaime sighed and looked down at his wine cup.

“Well now you can make up for lost time. What do you plan to do? Surely, you won’t stay in Winterfell following her around forever?”

Jaime shrugged slightly and took a sip of his wine. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought on it much”

“Yes, you’re right. Why bother thinking on it. Just keep dishonoring a noblewoman by openly bedding her for an entire kingdom to see.”

Tyrion watched as his words hit Jaime. “I’m not… that’s not my intent.”

“What the bedding her part? Or the everyone seeing it part?”

Jaime shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “She doesn’t want to marry me.”

Tyrion chuckled. “What? Why do you say that?”

“I’ve asked.”

Tyrion scoffed and looked disbelievingly at Jaime. “When? I have heard you japing with her about it, but never truly asking.”

“Well it isn’t entirely a jape and I did ask her the day after the feast.”

“You did!? And she said ‘no’?”

Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly before responding. “Well, not exactly. She just rolled her eyes at me.”

“Wait, hold on. You need to explain the circumstances to me.”

Jaime shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced at Pod and Bronn who were still carrying on. “The morning _after_. I told her ‘Well now you have to marry me.’ and she just rolled her eyes.”

Tyrion bit back the laugh threatening to escape. “Jaime, that is not a proposal. I don’t know what that is, but it most certainly isn’t a proposal nor is it romantic.”

“Well I couldn’t very well ask her outright. I wanted to see if she was even amenable to the idea.”

“Gods, is that why you two keep at that dumb jape? The one where you do something absurd and then say ‘Will you marry me now?’ Do you really think that a true gage of her interest?”

Jaime’s mouth flapped like a fish out of water. “I… It’s a perfectly good approach. Mayhap I’ll wear her down eventually.”

“You’re hopeless. Gods if it took you this long to admit your feelings for her, I can hardly imagine how long it will take for you to win her hand. You need to actually propose. I’ll help you! Clearly you can’t be trusted to do this on your own.”


	3. No Roses (Bran)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran helps the Lannister brothers plan a proposal

“You know, you’re shit at this.”

Tyrion scoffed and narrowed his eyes at Jaime. “Oh, my apologies! I didn’t mean to do such a shit job planning _your_ proposal for you.”

Shaking his head, Jaime looked absently at the trees dotting the Godswood. “Well you are supposed to be the clever one. Aren’t you planning Daenerys’ war for her?”

“Yes, well pardon me for not approaching your proposal as a battle plan. Then again given your choice in bride, perhaps I should.”

Bran felt the corner of his lips tug into a smile. He watched closely as the two Lannister brothers went at it back and forth. The sound of ravens overhead tugged at him, taking his attention from the quarreling lions.

He felt the draw to take flight less and less. His mind felt more his own with each passing day. At first, he wondered when the rage would return. When he would look at Jaime Lannister and wish him dead. When he would think of Theon and pray the demons were tossing him about in the Seven Hells. No rage came.

He felt at peace more than anything. Jaime was no more that man in the tower than he was the little boy scaling the stones. _I can get back at him in other ways. Use my powers to needle him mercilessly. Mayhap I make a speech at the wedding. Share the time Cersei made him don her dress so she could play the part of knight in the yards._

A conniving smile spread across Bran’s face as he looked down from the skies to the men before him. He had asked Jaime to wheel him to the Weirwood Tree, telling everyone he had to ‘check on things’ in King’s Landing. In truth, he just wanted to get away from his sisters.

Arya was in a foul mood of late. She and the Hound wanted to rush off the King’s Landing and the end war before it began, but Sansa was insistent they stick to the plan and take the safer approach.

Sansa was always pestering Bran about his food intake and his vacant stares. He hadn’t shared with her just how much of his time was now spent as Bran rather than the Three-Eyed Raven, fearful she would just yammer on about nonsensical things he cared little for. _Gods and the sewing_.

Bran now had more furs to cover his legs than he had days to wear them. _Little fucking direwolves and weirwood leaves on everything. And why is it all black and grey? This fucking tree is the only thing here with color in it._

No, even the Lannister brothers are more entertaining than all that. He again listened in on their conversation as Tyrion made yet another asinine suggestion.

“You should bring her flowers too!”

“Flowers? What the hells for? So she can cover the smell of my rotting carcass when she kills me off from your last shit idea? I think not. She isn’t the flowers type.”

Ignoring Jaime’s reply, Tyrion pressed on. “Winter roses! They’re gorgeous and would be a nice touch.’

“No roses. That will get your brother killed.” I may want to torture Jaime but seeing him killed off seems a bit extreme.

Both brothers turned to look at him; surprise writ across their faces. “Why would roses get me killed? Seems a bit drastic; not that I planned on bringing roses anyway.” Jaime cast a sideways glare at Tyrion who was still focused on Bran.

“That’s what Connington threw in her face when he rejected her for all of Tarth to see.” For such a painful statement, the words came out matter of fact. To Bran, it was merely the retelling of an impersonal tale. He liked Brienne well enough, but visions of the past didn’t pain him to witness if he wasn’t close to the person.

Jaime slowly took a step closer to Bran as though approaching a startled animal. “Who?”

Bran rolled his eyes and looked to Jaime. “Do you truly know so little about your own lady? Surely you can make time between all the unnecessary sex in the library to ask her questions about her past.”

Jaime gaped at Bran and stumbled for a reply. “That was one time!”

Tyrion snorted and muttered from behind Jaime. “I caught you twice.”

Jaime looked over his shoulder at his younger brother; Tyrion shrugged off his correction as if an inconsequential detail. Turning back to Bran, Jaime corrected himself. “That was two times! Why don’t you watch Jon and the dragon queen? Surely, they’ll give you more entertainment than me and Brienne.”

“Jon isn’t nearly as vocal as you are. My investigation on the matter is purely to check on everyone’s safety. I don’t want to witness that either. Trust me. I’ve been trying to unsee your ass for moons. Occupational hazard I suppose.”

Tyrion snickered behind Jaime. “You never answered what she’s like down there. Apparently, she’s pretty fucking amazing.”

“Oh, piss off Tyrion!”

Jaime turned back to Bran in frustration. His arms flailing in exasperation. “Who is Connington?”

 _Gods and I thought Jon knew nothing_. “Brienne was betrothed to him. Her second betrothal in fact. Did you really hope to be her first?”

Bran watched in amusement as Jaime’s brows rose to his hairline. “Oh. I did not know she was betrothed before. I suppose it only matters if I’m the last.” A nervous laugh pushed past Jaime’s lips as he looked between Tyrion and Bran.

Tyrion chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t look at me. Betrothals are far from my problem. It’s keeping the wife that I struggle with.”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime turned back to Bran. His face was a sea of emotions as he struggled to ask the question that Bran anticipated.

A smile spread across Bran’s face as he watched Jaime’s internal struggle continue. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Bran chuckled. “I’ll tell you, but first you have to say it.”

“Don’t make me.” Jaime’s look was pleading and it only served to encourage Bran.

“Very well. Don’t say it. I’ll just go back to my dreams now.” Bran let the whites of his eyes roll into view as Jaime took an urgent step forward and pleaded.

“No! Wait, alright. I’ll say it.”

A wide smile spread across Bran’s face as he looked to Jaime expectantly.

With a grunt of irritation, Jaime ground out the words. “I can only manage to court a woman when there is no _womb_ for her to run away.” Bran’s favorite activity had been ridiculing Jaime’s horrific attempts at wooing. Between that and his overt jealous when another man so much as looked at Brienne, Bran found that he had endless material.

“Was that so difficult?”

Jaime shook his head and grunted in annoyance. “I hate you.”

“Truly? Because I’ve fallen for you.”

Bran watched as Jaime tried and failed to bite back a laugh. Taking mercy on him, Bran shared what information he knew of Brienne’s past betrothals. The Lannister brothers were horrified at the tales of Red Ronnet and Wagstaff.

Tyrion stood slack jawed as Bran concluded the telling of the tales. He looked to Jaime and clapped him on the back. “Well on the bright side, the bar is _very_ low. You basically just need to _not_ insult her nor threaten to discipline her if she refuses a dress.”

With a sigh, Jaime run a hand through his hair. “I should be thrilled to hear how much better the prospect of marrying me _should_ be compare to the others, but it is quite horrifying that she went through that.”

Bran watched as Jaime rubbed at the junction of his false hand and stump. It was a nervous habit that Bran had observed in visions and direct interactions with the man. _He doesn’t think she’ll have him. I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to help him along._

“She likes lemon cakes best. Mayhap you could pack some of those. Bring her atop the battlements at sunrise or sunset. She likes those times of day best because it reminds her of Tarth. Tarth is quite proud of the fact that they are the first in Westeros every day to see the sun’s rays and the first to see the stars flicker in the night sky. She used to sit with Galladon on the cliffs at each time of day and eat lemon cakes they had stolen from the kitchen.”

A small smile spread across Jaime’s face at Bran’s words. “Alright, I can manage that. Thank you, Bran.”

“Of course. Glad I could lend a hand.”

And just like that, the momentary rapport was broken. “You’re the worst.”

The next day, Bran sat in his usual spot before the Weirdwood tree. It was approaching sunset and the weather was beginning to turn as winter passed. A southern breeze pushed through Bran’s hair and the first signs of spring presented themselves. Bran observed flower buds pushing up through the melting snow in the Godswood and smiled at the new color palette emerging.

The familiar call of ravens above drew his attention to the skies. _I have to go now_. Within moments, Bran had taken flight. He circled above the castle and took in the fading light setting over the west. Pivoting his feathered body, Bran looked down to the battlements and saw them.

Jaime and Brienne sat with their backs to the wall of a lookout tower atop the battlements. Brienne’s eyes were wide with delight as she ate one of the lemon cakes that Jaime had produced from his pocket. He had placed a few of the small cakes in a folded napkin and shoved them into his jerkin.

 _Idiot. Bring a fucking basket. Now you’ve got her eating crumbs_. Flying lower and just behind them, Bran could hear their laughter and whispers as they talked about insignificant topics.

“This reminds me so much of when I was little. Being up here at sunset and eating lemon cakes.” Brienne smiled and looked to Jaime. With the warmer weather approaching, both were able to comfortably wear just three layers without their heavy, fur lined cloaks. _Southerners. So dainty._

“On Tarth?” Bran rolled his three eyes at Jaime’s feigned ignorance.

With the nod of her head, Brienne took another bite of lemon cake. “I used to do this with my brother. Those might be among the only pleasant memories I have of Tarth.”

“I should like to see Tarth someday.” Jaime began rubbing at the space between his false hand and sump again. _No, no. Don’t lose confidence now you dolt. I gave you everything you need to not fuck this up_.

Brienne shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s nothing so special. Just an island.”

“I passed by it once. It reminded me of you.”

Brienne stiffened slightly as though bracing for the jape. “Yes, I’m certain that I share many qualities with a mass of land sitting in the sea.”

“Not so much the island, but the waters around it. Like sapphires. Your eyes are the only shade more beautiful.”

At his words, Brienne flushed slightly and looked down to her lap. “Oh. A bit embellished, but I thank you for the well-intentioned exaggeration.”

“I hardly embellish, but the only way to be certain is if we go there. You could show me the spot where you watched the sunset with your brother. And I could see where you learned the sword. And… it would make for a much better wedding location than the Rock or this dreary landscape.”

 _You dick_.

Brienne gave Jaime a warning look which he promptly ignored. “I never properly told you before, but I came to Winterfell because of you. I wanted to fight at your side and if I was to die, I had always wanted it to be in the arms of the woman I love. And since you dragged my ass through the battle with death itself until we came out the other side, I suppose that death won’t come for many more years. I still can’t imagine any other way to meet the Stranger than in your arms. Will you marry me, Brienne?”

 _Alright That was pretty good_.

Jaime swallowed thickly and awaited Brienne’s answer. Her eyes were wide in disbelief as she took in his words. A smile slowly spread over her face. “That was much better than ‘It’s bloody hot in here’.” The pair chuckled together before her laughter died and she looked into Jaime’s eyes.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” At her words, Jaime pulled her into a kiss. His hand cupped her cheek as his right arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close.

Bran flew closer and squawked excitedly. As he kissed Brienne, Jaime’s eyes parted slightly to see the raven. His lips turned up into a smile and his middle finger came into Bran’s view. 


	4. I’m Not a Lady (Arya)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya tries to make sense of Jaime's and Brienne's betrothal.

Arya stood in the yard watching Jaime and Brienne spar. The weather was warm, and inhabitants of Winterfell had traded in their outmost layer from cloaks to jerkins. The snow around Winterfell had long since melted, leaving muddy fields and flooded streams.

For the fifth time that morning, Jaime found himself yielding to Brienne. He hardly seemed to mind. The Kingslayer raised his arms in mock surrender as Brienne grinned triumphantly; sheathing her sword. Without warning, Jaime tackled her into a muddy puddle below them.

Brienne gasped in disgust and went to shove him off, but Jaime pinned her hands to his chest using his arms. He bent down to kiss her and swallowed her protests with his mouth. Bucking him off her, Brienne huffed and rolled to her knees.

“Gods you’re sexy when you’re mad.” Jaime smile impossibly wider as Brienne shot him a warning glare. “You’re insufferable! Now I’m filthy and need a bath.”

“Oh good! I’ll join you. You know how much I love our baths together.” Raising a suggestive brow, Jaime began chuckling again as Brienne huffed in irritation.

_Gross. They can’t leave soon enough._

Arya jumped down from her seat on the rock and rolled her eyes. She had been back in the north for nearly a moon’s turn since the war ended. The war that _she_ ended. Daenerys now ruled in King’s Landing with Jon at her side.

In a nod to the North’s longsuffering relationship with the southern kingdoms, Daenerys granted them their independence as she had done for Yara and the Iron Islands. Sansa was now queen in the North and Arya returned to help her build a Queensguard alongside Brienne.

At first, Arya assumed that Brienne would be Sansa’s Lady Commander. Arya was shocked to hear of Brienne’s planned departure for Tarth in five moon turns. She and the Kingslayer were to wed on Tarth and spend some time on the island before heading to Casterly Rock. 

_Bran says that I shouldn’t call him Kingslayer. Whatever. Bran also says I should reconsider Gendry’s proposal. What does Bran know anyway aside from everything?_

Brienne had agreed to stay on for half a year to help train the guards and the North’s forces. Arya had to admit that the men had never been better disciplined than they were under Brienne’s scrutiny. The only downside was the extended time with Jaime.

It wasn’t that Arya disliked him, but rather she disliked what he represented. Arya had always enjoyed her time training with Brienne. Arya felt that they were more alike than anyone she had met before.

Neither of them conformed to Westeros’ expectations of noble ladies. Brienne was a fellow female warrior who wanted nothing to do with playing at court, donning dresses, and entertaining annoying women like Sansa.

Both Arya and Brienne lacked courtly etiquette; preferring to bow than to curtsey. Preferring to swear than to swoon. Brienne was someone for Arya to roll her eyes with whenever Sansa went on a tangent surrounding one of her long suppressed romantic fantasies.

Arya saw Brienne’s betrothal to Jaime as a betrayal of it all. _Why is she abandoning herself? Will she trade in a sword for a needle? Will she cast aside her breeches for dresses? Will she host tea parties in place of melees?_

Determined to get to the bottom of it, Arya resolved to confront Brienne after her training session. Jaime continued to needle Brienne as she tried wipe the dirt from her back and legs with a cloth.

Wrapping his arms around her back, Jaime chuckled into her neck and spoke words that Arya couldn’t hear nor wanted to hear. Brienne feigned annoyance, but Arya could see the corner of her lips curling into a smile.

At her approach, Brienne’s smile dropped, and she nodded to Arya. “Morning, Arya.”

“Morning, Brienne. Kingslayer.” At the words, Jaime exhaled deeply and shook his head. “Brienne, the little wolf is being mean to me again. Can you beat her up for me?”

“You need your lady to fight your battles for you?” Arya raised a challenging brow at Jaime. The returning smirk on Jaime’s face was as expected as was his reply. “No, I need my knight to fight my battles for me.”

A sly smile spread across Arya’s face. Leaning closer with a mischievous glint in her eye, Arya looked to Jaime’s false hand. “Does the new scar tissue from the Long Night still ail you? Shall I get Qyburn to check the wound?”

Jaime’s face fell at the words. It was the only part of their banter that he couldn’t handle. When Arya returned from King’s Landing, she returned with a new face for her collection. It was the face that allowed her to get close enough to Cersei to end the war. Qyburn.

Seeing Jaime’s reaction for the first time when she put on Qyburn’s face quickly became one of Arya’s favorite things. For reasons unbeknownst to her, Qyburn unnerved Jaime. The Kingslayer. The man who charged a dragon, fought dead things, jumped into a bear pit unarmed, and lead countless battles was afraid of an old man.

It quickly became Arya’s favorite pastime. She would don Qyburn’s face and hide throughout the castle, jumping out and eliciting the daintiest of screams from Jaime. Every time, Jaime would cower behind Brienne until realization washed over him. _‘Fucking hells Arya!’_

Brienne sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. With a pointed glare at Jaime, Brienne spoke through gritted teeth. “What can I help you with Arya? I was just about to head in for a bath.” Jaime feigned innocence and smiled widely.

“I actually came to speak to you, _Ser_ Brienne.”

A slight surprise flitted across Brienne’s features. With a nod of her head, both women looked to Jaime expectantly. Jamie scoffed and feigned offense. “Fine. I know when I’m not wanted.”

Leaning into Brienne, Jaime raised a brow and spoke in a suggestive tone. “I’ll get the bath ready for you.” Making his way inside the castle, Jaime whistled and nodded to Pod who walked by on his way to the stables. 

Turning her attention back to Brienne, Arya narrowed her eyes. “It’s about the Kingslayer.”

Brienne huffed and looked to the sky. “His name is Jaime.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I still don’t understand why you’re doing this. I had hoped to sail west now that all this shit is over with, but I worry about leaving Sansa. If she would have you around, I would feel much better about leaving.”

“Arya, I’m sorry, but we’ve been through this. She has Sandor to serve as head of her guard. He will do a fine job and keep her safe. The men have come a long way and I truly believe they are ready…”

“Fine. This isn’t about all that. I thought you and I understood things the same. Why are you letting the Kingslayer…”

“Jaime…”

“… do this to you? You’re like me. You’re not a lady.”

Brienne huffed a laugh and shook her head. “No, no I’m not.”

Arya grunted in indignation and threw her arms out. “Then why!? He knighted you after all. I thought he understood you. Now he sees fit to make you the lady of a fucking castle. Are you going to wear stupid dresses and skip about the corridors?”

With an amused glint in her eyes, Brienne looked to Arya. “I’m not a lady and I never will be. Jaime doesn’t expect me to wear dresses or hold court. I will continue to bow where I should curtsey. Wield a sword where I should sew. Don breeches where I should wear a dress. He wants me to change no more than I want to change.”

Arya’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But… you’re to wed and act as Lady of Casterly Rock.”

“I want the title no more than Jaime wants to be Lord of Casterly Rock. With Tyrion as Hand, that leaves only one Lannister left to take the position. We’ll likely be shit at it. Neither of us want the role, but it is our duty.”

The words might as well have been in Valyrian for what little Arya understood. “So, he wants to wed you, but isn’t expecting you to act as a lady?”

“No. Why would he do that? If he wants a proper lady, I’m the last person he should wed.”

None of this made sense to Arya. Wedded women, particularly those of a great house, had a role to play. There was no deviating from that. _If Brienne can carry on as she is and play the role of wife, mayhap I can too?_

Arya shook her head and convinced herself that Jaime was either lying about his expectations or Brienne misunderstood. _I’ll seek him out later. Preferably well after bath time. They are never easy to be around after certain activities_.

Later that evening, Arya went looking for Jaime. It didn’t take long to find him. All she had to do was listen for the sound of her sister’s voice yelling at someone. Sansa liked Jaime, but he also drove her insane. Tonight was no exception.

“Stop it! You’re such a child!”

Sansa’s voice carried down the corridor and alerted Arya to the room they were in. “You’ll ruin it! Take it off.”

Arya groaned inwardly. _Gods. Not again._

Jaime laughed loudly and continued yammering on from the other side of the door that Arya came to stand in front of.

“Why don’t I get one?”

“You’re not the bride!”

Arya pushed open the door and took in the sight before her. Jaime stood in the middle of the room wearing a maiden’s cloak and a small crown atop his head. _Do I want to know?_

Bran sat in his wheelchair watching on in amusement as Sansa stood on her tip toes to try and grab the crown from Jaime. Batting her away playfully, Jaime adjusted the crown so that it sat perfectly atop his golden head.

“Why is the Kingslayer wearing a woman’s crown and cloak?”

Sansa halted her effort to retrieve her creations and pointed accusingly at Jaime. “This manchild won’t remove what I’ve made for Brienne. He’s going to destroy it with his giant head.”

“I apologize that my head must be so large to accommodate my enormous brain.”

“Oh please. If your head was a castle it would be Harrenhal. Decrepit and devoid of life.” Sansa huffed and put out her hand. She presented at annoyance in her features, but Arya could see the fondness in her eyes. _Yes, she quite likes the Kingslayer. I suppose he is like the much older, annoying brother we never wanted nor asked for._

With a slight shrug, Jaime removed the crown and hummed. “Decrepit, mayhap. _Lovely_ baths though.” Bran snickered as Jaime winked at Sansa. Her nose crinkled in disgust as she placed the crown back on the side table.

Looking closely at the crown, Arya noted the little crescent moons and sun adorning the decorative hairpiece _. I knew it. She’s going to wear a little fucking dress and a crown_.

“Now give me the cloak. You’ll ruin it.” Sansa again put her hands out and waited impatiently for Jaime to return the cloak. It was sapphire blue with the Tarth sigil at the center.

“Shouldn’t it fit me too? What if I want her to cloak me?” Jaime’s voice was teasing, but Arya mused how fitting it would be.

At Sansa’s warning glare, Jaime chuckled and handed her the cloak. Turning back to the table, Sansa grabbed a folded crimson cloak and walked back to Jaime. “Now hold still and no more nonsense.”

Placing the cloak around Jaime’s shoulders, Arya appraised the design. It was the most Lannister thing she had ever seen in her life. _Ugh. How horrible._

The cloak was crimson with gold stitching running through it. A golden lion adorned the center, but just above its head was a shooting star. _What is that? I hope it’s heading straight for the lion’s head._

Sansa moved around Jaime in concentration, making additional adjustments along the way. Walking around to face Jaime, Arya raised a brow. “I need to understand something.”

Jaime groaned at the words. “Gods, you’re not going to make me play that ridiculous game again, are you? Game of heads or whatever. My hand still has welts on it.”

“It’s called Game of Faces and no. I am going to ask you questions, but I want truth this time. No lies. I’ll know if you’re lying.” At Arya’s words, an amused smile flickered across Jaime’s face. He began to chuckle but abruptly yelped and surged forward.

“Ow! What the fuck!” Jaime rubbed his back as Sansa huffed and peered around his shoulder. “Well that wouldn’t have happened if you held still. Gods, you’re worse than Brienne.”

“Did she like the little hat?” Jaime glanced sideways at Sansa, afraid to move this time.

“It is not a little hat! It’s a decorative crown for her hair. She’ll look beautiful in it. And no… she doesn’t like it. She just wants to wear the damn sword at her hip.”

A victorious smile stretched across Jaime’s face. Arya’s brows furrowed at the sight. “You’re happy about that? That she plans to wear the sword.”

Jaime looked to Arya with a perplexed expression on his face. “Why wouldn’t I be?

“Well, it isn’t very ladylike.”

Jaime guffawed at Arya’s reply. A teasing smile stretched his lips. “Sansa, are you wearing Arya’s face? I’m confused by which of you is supposed to be the girly one.”

Arya glared at Jaime and hit him hard on the arm. At the movement, Sansa huffed in annoyance and steadied his arm. “Stop moving! Gods the two of you.”

“I don’t understand. If you don’t want her to be a lady, why are you marrying her?”

Jaime chuckled which only sought to irritate Arya further. “Why am I marrying her? Gods if Ned could see me now. Well you see Arya, when a man loves a woman…”

“Oh, shut up! I don’t need to hear about how your cock and her cunt works. I don’t understand why you are marrying her and taking her to play at lady of Casterly Rock if you don’t want to change her.”

Understanding washed over Jaime’s features as he considered her words. “You think I mean to change Brienne? I would have better luck growing a new hand. I don’t want her to change.”

“Then why not stay here and be knights? Its what you both are and what make you happy.” Arya’s tone was serious and devoid of its typical accusation. She was genuinely curious to understand Jaime’s motivation.

“I’m certain your sister would love having me around for the rest of her days, but no… I think the Rock will suit us just fine. It’s too blood cold here.”

Bran guffawed and cast a knowing glance at Jaime. “Too bloody hot. Too bloody cold. You’re awfully difficult.”

Arya raised a brow at Bran but looked back at Jaime. “So… you won’t make her host tea parties and wear stupid dresses and sew useless furs like Sansa does?”

“Arya! That’s it! I’m never making you anything else. I’ll just bequeath my talents on Bran and knit him some more blankets and clothes.”

Jaime muffled a laugh as Bran paled. His eyes betrayed the despair that his tone did not hold. “Oh you’re too kind. I couldn’t possibly ask any more of you than you’ve already given. Mayhap Jon could use some clothing sent to him as a reminder of his northern roots.” 

Ignoring her siblings, Arya looked expectantly to Jaime. “So my question. Tea parties, dresses, and worthless sewing?”

Jaime snorted. “I quite enjoy having my balls attached to my body, thank you. No, I won’t ask her to do any of that. She would sooner make me do all that nonsense before I could get her to do it.”

Huffing in exasperation, Arya threw up her arms and held Jaime’s eyes. “Gods then what _are_ you hoping to get from this marriage?”

Jaime’s face scrunched in confusion at her question and he shrugged. “Her. I just want to be with her.”

 _If Brienne can be a knight and marry a man who asks no more of her than that… mayhap I can too?_ Bran’s voice drifted to her ears; a teasing lilt to his tone. “I told you. Go talk to Gendry. Stop being such an idiot about it.”


	5. Oathfam (Pod)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pod settled in to life at the Rock in his new role. Bronn has joined of course because why not.

Pod had known. He had always known. He may have been a young man when Ser Jaime sent him off with his lady knight on a quest for wolves, but he knew. They loved each other.

He saw it in the strained goodbye. The longing looks. The flushed cheeks. What Pod didn’t expect was anything to come of it. He knew enough of Ser Jaime from Tyrion’s tales to understand that this was a man bound to his family. To his sister.

Brienne by contrast was bound only to those individuals whom her deep-rooted honor compelled her to serve. Unfortunately, those very individuals she sought to protect played enemy to Ser Jaime’s kin. They would forever be on opposing sides. Doomed to a life staring longingly from across a battlefield.

When they arrived at Riverrun to retrieve the Blackfish, Pod was hardly surprised that Ser Jaime saw them to safety. Bronn had made crass comments about Pod’s lady knight and Ser Jaime, but Pod knew better. He kept his comments to himself. _They are not fucking. If they were to do anything, it would be making love. That won’t happen though. One fights for lions and the other for wolves_.

Then Ser Jaime came north to fight at their sides in the Long Night. He broke from his family to do so. From his sister.

Pod had never been more pleasantly surprised. More amusing to Pod than watching the pair pine after one another, was watching others realize the duo’s long-suppressed love. It began first with Tyrion. A few knowing looks from Tyrion during the night of Ser Brienne’s knighting was all Pod needed to know that his friend saw it too.

Then he observed Lady Sansa’s knowing eyes lingering on the couple during the feast. Pod always respected Sansa; an observant and intelligent woman. He mused that she and Tyrion would have made a smart match had fate not pushed them apart. Pushed them to opposing sides just as fate had done to Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne.

_Then again, fate did see fit to bring them back together time and time again. Mayhap Tyrion and Sansa are made to orbit around one another in a similar way._

After the feast, most everyone in Pod’s wing of the castle knew about Jaime and Brienne. Pod wished he had taken the serving girl somewhere else. _Gods. It feels as though I’m overhearing my parents having sex._

Then Bronn showed up and claimed he had known first. _Alright, Bronn. Whatever makes you feel special._ It was Bronn who stood before Pod now. They had both accompanied Jaime and Brienne from Winterfell to Tarth to Casterly Rock.

Pod joined on invitation from the newlywed couple. Brienne had knighted Pod before they left the North and he was offered a place in their household. He would oversee the forces of Casterly Rock under command of Ser Addam who led the full forces of the West. Pod enjoyed his position and had learned a lot from Ser Addam in the moons since their arrival to the Rock.

Bronn joined on invitation from himself. He claimed that he was owed a castle and since there were none to be had, he would just stay with Jaime and Brienne. He had ridden south with Daenerys’ forces and proven himself, but the castle offered was not to his liking.

Pod knew that it was a front to avoid the truth. He valued Jaime’s friendship and enjoyed being around the couple. _It’s alright Bronn. I won’t tell anyone that you enjoy friendship more than coin or castle. It can be our little secret._

Bronn commanded the household guards and served at the newlyweds’ side. The sellsword version of a Lord Commander to a great house. As always, Bronn was crude and informal, but endlessly entertaining and quite loyal. Standing under sun’s warm rays in the courtyard at the Rock, Bronn and Pod spoke of various items concerning the Rock’s guards.

Suddenly, Jaime’s frantic voice cut through their conversation. “Pod! Bronn! Have you seen Brienne!? She’s missing! I’ve looked everywhere she should be?”

Pod’s brows knitted in confusion. “Well, where have you looked?”

“Our bed and the training yards. And the baths..”

_Seven take me now. Can we at least pretend they do more than fight and fuck? For my sanity._

Bronn guffawed which only incited Jaime. “Is this funny to you!? My wife is missing!”

Rolling his eyes, Bronn cast an unimpressed look at Jaime. “Ya wife is fuckin ten feet tall and blonder than anyone in the West. I doubt she just slipped away unseen. Ya just haven’t seen ‘er and ya cock is wantin’.”

“This isn’t funny, Bronn! I can’t find her.”

Pod took a deep breath; as usual feeling the need to be the voice of reason. “Lets each take a different section of the castle grounds and try to find her. She wouldn’t have gone into town without telling anyone. She is too responsible for that.”

Jaime muttered under his breath and smiled slightly. “Yes, very diligent. Very responsible.”

They each took a section of the castle grounds and agreed to meet back up in the courtyard after conducting their search. Pod was not concerned about his lack of success until he returned to the courtyard and noticed that neither Bronn nor Jaime had Brienne with them.

It was not like Brienne to wander into Lannisport without telling anyone. Bronn checked with the guards on duty and the stable boys. No one saw Brienne leave that day. _Well this is odd_.

Jaime was starting to panic, and Pod again felt the need to be the voice of reason. “Lets consider where we haven’t looked. Where can she walk from here to relax? The cliffs? Is there a reason she would go in the castle passageways?”

Shaking his head, Jaime ran a hand through his hair. “She wouldn’t be in the passageway. Maybe the cliffs?” The three men set out for the cliffs but Brienne was not there either. It was starting to get dark outside and even Pod was getting worried.

As they moved back towards the courtyard, Pod saw one of the stable boys tending to a horse. Pod jogged over to inquire who the rider was that returned the mare. The stable boys would typically only tend the horses like that upon someone’s return.

“The maester, ser. He returned from Lannisport not long ago.” _Fuck. No Brienne still._ Looking back at Bronn and Jaime, Pod shook his head to indicate that the rider had not been the lady of the Rock. Walking back over to the pair, Pod tried to keep the worry from his voice. “Lets go inside and map out a plan.”

Making their way into the Keep, Pod glanced at Jaime. He looked like a child lost in a sea of wights. A familiar voice drifted down the hallway from the opposite direction. The maester had his hand on Brienne’s arm and was speaking to her softly as they moved towards them. He had something in his hand that they were looking at.

Brienne looked up at their group and her brows furrowed at the sight of their distraught faces. Without hesitating, Jaime took off running and crashed into her. “Gods! Brienne, where have you been!? We’ve been looking everywhere!”

Pod and Bronn looked to one another and rolled their eyes. Looking back to the maester, Jaime, and Brienne, Pod felt a smile stretch across his face. _I hope when the Stranger comes, Jaime goes first. I’m not certain he could live without her._

The three spoke in hushed tones and Jaime went still as he took in the words. Pod felt his heart clench in worry as Jaime dropped to his knees in what he assumed was despair. _Is Brienne alright? What is going on?_

Then Jaime put his hands to Brienne’s hips and yelled… not spoke… at her belly. “Little cub! I did that, wench! I put that in there!”

Brienne rolled her eyes and huffed at Jaime. “I think I had something to do with it.”

“Ssshhh. You’re ruining the moment.”

A wide smile stretched across Pod’s face. He couldn’t be happier for them despite the wasted emotional strain of the afternoon. Jaime and Brienne had been through so much; apart and together. Now they could finally start a family and live peacefully.

Interrupting Pod’s thoughts, Bronn leaned over and muttered. “Fuck me. This is gunna be unbearable.” If only Pod knew at the time how true the statement was.

The next six moons were trying to say the least. The night that Jaime found out about the ‘little cub’, he very enthusiastically and very loudly took Brienne to bed to celebrate. His excitement didn’t stop that night. He continued to celebrate throughout the castle over the next fortnight. Pod had the unfortunate experience of seeing too much of his lady knight’s long legs and Ser Jaime’s bare ass on multiple occasions.

Bronn was the only one who didn’t mind. He seemed to enjoy an ‘accidental’ peek at Ser Brienne a little too much. After a night of too much ale with Jaime and Pod after dinner, Bronn expressed as much. “What? I didn’t lie at Riverrun. I said he’d fuck ‘er. I said I’d fucker ‘er too. Those fuckin’ legs. Gods.”

Bronn had a black eye the next day. He still didn’t mind.

Then the day came that the babe arrived… or rather, the babes. As if Jaime hadn’t been excited enough when he found out Brienne was pregnant, he was over the moon when the maester announced that he had _two_ healthy babes.

He quite literally danced in the hallway as the maester waited patiently for him to calm down. The maester allowed Jaime into the room from which he had been previously banished. Pod muffled a laugh when he heard the maester reprimanding Jaime from the other side of the door.

“My lord! Please remember, no bedding your lady wife for at least a moon or two.” Pod couldn’t begin to imagine the scene unfolding in the room, but it was Brienne’s voice that nearly did him in. “A moon or two!? Try a year or two. I hurt! Everywhere. I will never forgive you for this Jaime Lannister.”

When the maester exited the room, he gave a small smile and nod to Pod and Bronn. “They’re settled now with the babes. I’m certain they’ll be willing to see you.”

With a light knock at the door, Pod heard Jaime’s voice welcome them in. Pod pushed the door open and took in the scene before him. Jaime and Brienne were sitting in the bed with a babe each in their arms.

They looked so happy and in love. It was the first time Pod felt a hint of longing to find his own life partner. Someone to love and build a family with. As Pod stepped closer, both Jaime and Brienne looked up at him. They each had tears in their eyes and wide smiles on their faces.

“Congratulations Sers. Do we have lady knights or lord knights to begin training?”

Brienne chuckled and looked to Jaime. Turning to Pod, Jaime smiled and tilted the babe’s head up slightly to face Pod. “This is little Lady Catelyn. She’ll likely be beating up Ser Bronn within the year. It might take her a year longer to fell you.”

Then Brienne raised the babe in her arms. “This is little Lord Podrick. He’ll likely lose his horse along the way and forget to keep his left side guarded, but he will make an excellent squire someday before becoming a knight.”

Pod felt his own eyes water at the honor they had bestowed on him. He never would have guessed so many years ago when he was sent away from King’s Landing by Ser Jaime to join Ser Brienne, that the two people before him would become his family. His Ser Mom and Ser Dad.

Then Bronn’s voice ruined the moment. “What the fuck? No little Lord Bronn?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that. Just random fluff to help me survive my own angst fic that I have going at the same time. I don't know what this was and I'm sorry haha


End file.
